
Contract Marriage: The CEO's Silent Shield
Aunt Lydia told me that if I didn't secure the loan shark Mr. Jareth tonight, I’d be sleeping on the street. I stood outside the brass doors of the restaurant, my lungs refusing to expand, my hands shaking so violently that my gray wool skirt blurred in my vision.
I was supposed to sell my soul to a monster to pay off my family’s debts. But when I sat down at Table 12, I didn't find a man in a leather jacket smelling of stale beer. Instead, I found a man in a bespoke suit who smelled of cedarwood and cold winter air, a man who looked at me like a specimen under a microscope.
"Sit down," he commanded, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated in my chest. Before I could realize I was at the wrong table, he had already signaled the staff to throw the real loan shark out into the street. Then, he slid a blank black card across the table and offered me a deal: a marriage of convenience to satisfy his board of directors in exchange for my total protection.
I signed the contract and moved into a penthouse he claimed belonged to his "boss," trying to play the part of the quiet, broken wife. But the lies were too loud to ignore. He called a half-million-dollar bottle of wine a "Costco blend" and claimed his $4 million Patek Philippe watch was a cheap replica. He thought he was protecting a helpless, mute girl, but he had no idea who I really was.
I didn't understand why this "manager" had the police commissioner on speed dial or why he was tracking my every move with hidden cameras. While he was busy playing the savior, I was secretly logging onto the dark web as "The Surgeon," the only medical genius capable of treating the chronic, agonizing migraines he kept hidden from the world.
The truth finally exploded when the loan shark cornered us at my aunt’s estate. As I held a corkscrew to a killer’s throat with surgical precision, I saw the mask slip from my husband’s face. I realized then that I hadn't just married a businessman—I had married the most dangerous man in New York, and he was currently wiring thousands of dollars to me to save his life.
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Chapter 6
The card lay on the kitchen counter. It was black titanium.
Buy a dress. We see Lydia tonight.
The note was written in his sharp, angular handwriting.
She picked up the card. It was heavy. A Centurion card. She had heard of these. They were for billionaires.
"He's insane," she whispered. "This has to be a high-risk line of credit." Her mind raced, trying to fit this piece of data into the puzzle of the 'middle manager' he was pretending to be. It didn't fit.
She took the subway to Fifth Avenue. Campbell had texted her the address of a boutique. Not a department store. A maison.
She walked in. The air conditioning was set to a temperature that felt like money.
A sales assistant looked up from her phone. She saw her grey wool dress. She saw her canvas tote bag. She looked back at her phone.
She walked to the racks. She found a black dress. Simple. Elegant. She looked at the tag. $3,000.
She almost dropped it. She squinted. Maybe it was $300? No. Three zeros.
She tried it on. It fit like a second skin. It made her look... formidable.
She walked to the counter. The assistant sighed.
"We don't do layaway," she said.
She pulled out the black card.
Her eyes widened. She actually stopped breathing for a second. She looked from the card to her, then back to the card.
"Ms... Dunlap?" Her voice went up three octaves.
"Just run it," she whispered. "Before it declines."
She suppressed a laugh. "It won't decline, ma'am."
She swiped it. The machine beeped. Approved.
Suddenly, the manager was there. "Champagne? Truffles? We can close the store for you."
"No," she said. She grabbed the bag. "I have to go."
She ran out. They were too eager. It felt like a trap.
Back at the apartment, she Googled the card.
Centurion Card: Invite only. Initiation fee $10,000.
She stared at the screen.
This wasn't a scam. It was proof. He was lying about everything. She closed the laptop, her mind cold and clear. She would play along. For now.
Campbell came home an hour later. He looked tired.
"Did you get the dress?"
She held out the card. "Cam, you have to cut this up. These companies prey on people like you. The interest rates must be criminal."
He took the card. He looked at it. He looked at her.
For a moment, his face went blank. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched.
"You're right," he said gravely. "I... I got carried away. I wanted to impress you."
A terrible actor, she thought. But she nodded, playing the part of the concerned, naive wife. "I'll pay you back for the dress," she said. "Put it on my tab."
He looked at her with a softness that made her knees weak.
"Okay," he said. "But tonight, you have to wear it. And you have to act like you don't care about the price. We need to bluff Lydia."
"Act like a rich snob?"
"Exactly."
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8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.

7.9
Valerie Ashford, a girl who had just turned twenty-one, was introduced by her father to his business associates at a grand party, where she met a frightening, cold-blooded man.
That man was none other than her father's business partner, the CEO of a major corporation. He was taken with Valerie and had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her.
For Rovano Morvane, whatever he desired was absolute and he had to have it, even by the worst means possible.
That night Valerie vanished without a trace and Rovano became the prime suspect, yet the Ashford family could not prove their allegations.
"P-please, I don't want to die, sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to bend down even lower.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth." Rovano ordered.
Cold, Valerie felt the other side of the folding knife pressed against her cheek.
Rovano was going to mark Valerie.
It felt like something was missing if Rovano didn't take out his psychopathic urges on someone.
And this time, for the first time, he wanted a girl: Valerie Ashford.
Would Valerie's life end here?

9.3
To escape my abusive adoptive mother selling me to a loan shark for $50,000, I rushed to City Hall to marry a blind date.
In a blind panic, I grabbed the wrong man.
He was Julian Cardenas IV, a billionaire CEO who desperately needed a fake wife to dodge a corporate arranged marriage. We signed the papers on the spot.
He became my legal shield. He moved me into his pristine penthouse and secretly protected me from my family's violent threats. When I broke down crying in the freezing cold, he quietly left me hot cocoa. For the first time in my life, I felt safe.
But then, Julian overheard me complaining to my sister about my constantly breaking-down car, groaning that I had to "get rid of this baby four times."
He thought I meant abortions.
The man who was slowly melting my frozen heart instantly turned to ice. He threw away the dinner he had specially bought for me, his eyes filled with absolute disgust and blinding rage.
I was left entirely confused and terrified. Why did my savior suddenly look at me like I was the most repulsive thing in the world? What had I done to deserve this sudden cruelty?
I thought this fake marriage was my ticket out of hell. I didn't realize I had just locked myself in a cage with a furious, ruthless CEO who now wanted to destroy me.

7.5
I am the biological daughter of the wealthy Fitzpatrick family, but I spent my childhood eating out of dumpsters.
When I was finally brought back to the estate at age seven, I thought I would experience my parents' love.
Instead, my biological parents looked at my dirty clothes with raw disgust. They only cared about Hallie, the fake daughter who lived like a princess.
The moment I walked in, Hallie hurled a heavy ceramic cup at my head, slicing my hand open.
"Get out of my house!"
My father didn't even look at the blood. He raised his hand to strike me, accusing me of bringing trailer park rules into his home.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I endured their abuse, hoping they would eventually love me.
But they let the maids humiliate me, let Hallie steal my identity, and eventually threw me back onto the streets to die. Even my playboy Uncle Byron, the only person who ever showed me mercy, was driven to suicide by them.
I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much, or why a vicious liar deserved everything while I was treated like a jinx.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I first returned to the estate.
As my father raised his hand to hit me, I didn't cower.
Instead, I looked at the family patriarch and pointed directly at my notorious, alcoholic uncle.
"I want him to be my new guardian."

7.4
Standing on the edge of a limestone quarry in the pouring rain, I thought we were just having another family argument.
Then my mother, Ardell, screamed that I’d let the life insurance lapse, and my brother, Hakeem, stepped out of the shadows with a cold, calculating look in his eyes.
I told them I knew the truth—that Hakeem had cut the brake lines on my father’s car—but they didn't flinch. Instead, Hakeem shoved me hard, sending me tumbling into the abyss.
I hit a jagged ledge thirty feet down, the sound of my spine snapping like a dry branch echoing through the rain. As I lay paralyzed and broken, my mother watched from above, asking if I was dead yet, before Hakeem whistled for the starving wild dogs that lived in the quarry floor.
"Nature will clean up the mess,"
Hakeem said, walking away while the first set of teeth sank into my throat.
The agony was a tidal wave, but the rage was hotter, a nuclear hatred for the family that stole my future and the daughter I’d never see grow up. I died in that dirt, consumed by fire and teeth, wondering how a mother could choose a car payment over her own child's life.
But then, I gasped for air, sitting bolt upright in my old trailer bedroom. I looked at the calendar: May 12, 2014.
I was seventeen again, but I wasn't the same girl. Inside this malnourished body was the mind of a world-class trauma surgeon and the elite hacker known as 'Phantom.'
This time, I wasn't going to the quarry; I was going for their throats.

7.1
"You're mine now, Brittany." He whispered in my ears. I froze. I don't remember telling him my name.
Zayne...Zayne...oh God. Now, I remember why his name sounded so familiar...but it was too late, I thought as I lost consciousness.
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Brittany's life has been full of heartbreaks and pain, from her father's death to her mother's manipulation and abuse, while using religion as a weapon.
She grews up with fear, guarding her virginity like a cloak because of her mother's constant words in her ears.
Until she meets Zayne, known throughout New York as the CEO for his ruthlessness, he turns out to be Mafia too.
Zayne claims her as his refusing to let her go. Will Brittany grow to love him and give him a chance after what he did to her?
What happens when she's the only one who can save him from enemies flocking around him?
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"I'm letting you go, doll." He mumbled as he held on to me, his eyes growing weak.
My heart twisted in my chest as tears fell down my cheeks.
No... "I don't regret a thing. You taking me was the best thing that ever happened to me."